


Distant Sun

by last_system_lord



Series: Enemy Amongst Us [15]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Mild Angst, Post-Continuum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_system_lord/pseuds/last_system_lord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam refused to believe that it was inevitable, but a little voice at the back of her mind whispered that she’d been playing with fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The series finale!
> 
> Since I've been asked about it, I thought I'd clear up where this sits with canon. Technically, its not AU and it happens a little while after the events of Stargate Continuum. So, Continuum happened exactly the way it did in the movie, but Ba'al's host did not survive after the extraction.

_______________________

Sam took a deep breath… and infected the SGC system with Ba’al’s computer virus.

Or more accurately, with a modified version of Ba’al’s virus, but Sam wasn’t sure the distinction mattered quite as much as she would have liked. With Lee on vacation, she was mostly certain that no one would detect the virus, but mostly certain wasn’t really good enough, not when she had no good explanation for where it had come from.

She still felt the exercise was necessary; the ease at which Ba’al had accessed their IDCs had shaken her to the core. This way, she could track where in the system the virus was able to retrieve data and from there she could plug the holes in their security. No one would question her updating the system’s security – she did it regularly anyway – but if they found the virus…

It was risk, but one that she felt she had to take.

Sam tracked the virus as it began to spread through the system, it was, she had to admit, a very subtle design and extremely adaptable. It waited until usually separate systems swapped information and then jumped between them.

A knock at the door made Sam jump and she almost reflexively slammed shut her laptop. It was just Daniel and so Sam didn’t try to angle the screen away from him; he’d notice such a move instantly. And he was unlikely to recognise what she was actually doing.

‘We have a meeting,’ he said succinctly.

Sam just blinked at him, wondering what she’d forgotten. ‘When?’

‘Now.’ Daniel pulled a face that let her know it _hadn’t_ been planned.

He disappeared from the doorway again and Sam worried her lip with her teeth. How long would the meeting be? She had no way of knowing, but it was likely to be long enough; emergency meetings always were. The real question was; could she afford to leave Ba’al’s virus unsupervised? It wouldn’t actually _do_ anything, not on its own, but if someone noticed it and she wasn’t around to immediately terminate it, _then_ she’d be in trouble.

Sam left the virus running. Her tracking program would record its progress and she could purge the system again after the meeting. She’d buried both programs under layers and layers of security, so at least no one would locate it from _her_ computer. It didn’t mean it wouldn’t be picked up as an anomaly in the system, though.

Casting one last look at her laptop, Sam hurried up to the conference room. Emergency meetings were never good news.

That opinion was confirmed as soon as she arrived. If the meeting itself hadn’t been enough of a tip off that something was seriously wrong then the grim look on Landry’s face was a dead giveaway. Daniel and Vala were already seated when Sam arrived, but Cam was nowhere to be seen.

‘This morning the NID informed me they’ve been running an investigation into that Trust splinter group we had a brief run-in with,’ Landry started and Sam stared at him.

The Trust splinter group; she remembered them all too well, after all; it _was_ where she’d met her Ba’al clone.

‘I thought we wiped them out?’ she asked. More accurately, she’d thought _Ba’al_ wiped them out with his bomb, but she was hardly going to say _that_.

‘Apparently there were two members of the group not present at the warehouse. The NID found them, and have been monitoring them to make sure they _are_ the final two members.’ Landry held up a hand to forestall comments. ‘It’s a NID operation and they had it under control, however, they’ve encountered a new development. A few days ago, they were staking out the premises when someone else turned up, they suspected a match and sent the photos to us this morning.’ Landry passed around files. ‘Take a look.’

Sam sent a quizzical look at Daniel before slipping open the file. It was a fairly thorough report on the investigation, which stretched back months, and included photos, two people that had been identified in the report as the Trust splinter group operatives. Sam shuffled through to the next photo and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

The photo was of the Trust operatives but, right in the corner of the frame, clearly watching them was a very familiar face.

There was no mistaking it, because the photographer had noticed and the next photo was a close up. He wasn’t looking directly at the camera, but the smug look on Ba’al’s face was all too obvious.

‘Oh, hahaha,’ said Vala. ‘I didn’t know the NID had a sense of humour.’

Sam couldn’t tear her eyes away from the photo. What had he been _thinking_?

‘The next day,’ Landry continued, ignoring Vala, ‘the Trust operatives were found dead. The NID are covering it up, but it leaves us with a new problem.’

Dead. Of course they’d been found dead, Sam thought, latching on to the irritation that thought provoked like a lifeline. They’d captured him, so he’d hunted them down and killed them, without saying a word to her. She could have _told_ him the NID would be looking, but maybe he’d known, maybe that was why he’d wanted the Sodan cloak so badly. Did he know he’d been seen?

‘You can say that again,’ muttered Daniel, holding the incriminating photo. ‘I thought we agreed that we’d caught the _last_ clone? How did we miss one?’

‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ Landry said.

Sam was still frozen, her eyes fixed on the photograph, and it took her a moment to realise they’d all turned to her.

‘Sam?’ Daniel prompted.

What had they been saying...?

‘I don’t know…’ Sam tried to pull her thoughts together but they kept branching off. Had the NID followed him? Did they know where he was? Had they been staking out _his_ apartment? Were these all the photos they had? ‘We were basing that off all the clones having locator beacons, I guess it’s possible we were wrong about that.’

Except they hadn’t been. Her Ba’al _did_ have a locator beacon, he’d just found a way to jam the signal, or at least, that’s what he’d said.

‘So there could be _more_?’ Vala sounded horrified.

Sam immediately had the mental image of another twenty Ba’al’s invading the SGC and had the sudden and inexplicable urge to giggle. It wasn’t funny, though. Not funny at all.

‘Not too many more,’ mused Daniel. ‘He’s too well known in the galaxy, if there were clones everywhere we’d have heard something.’

‘For the moment,’ Landry cut in, ‘we’re worrying about _this_ Ba’al.’

Sam could certainly relate to that sentiment. ‘Maybe he’ll be able to tell us if there are more clones.’

‘And we’d _believe_ him?’ Vala asked incredulously. ‘The other one said _he_ was the last clone!’

‘Actually, he didn’t, what he did say was the original could remove the locator beacon, so maybe this _is_ the original and the last _Ba’al_.’ Daniel looked hopeful, but not optimistic.

‘We’ll ask him that too,’ Landry said. ‘Colonel Mitchell is currently coordinating with the NID operation to bring him in.’

Oh no. Sam wondered if there was any way she could get a message to him, but how? She couldn’t text him or call him because slipping away to do so would be next to impossible. Also… if they found his mobile it would have her number in it and she would feel _really_ stupid if he got away and left it behind. Actually, it could _still_ have her number in it… Sam seriously hoped that Ba’al had deleted his call history.

And hopefully not saved her as a contact.

If he’d saved her as a contact Sam would kill him herself.

‘We’re hoping to hear from the team any moment,’ Landry was telling them and Sam realised she hadn’t been listening. ‘Since this concerns our off-world allies, the NID have agreed to let us hold him here for the time being.’

‘If we catch him,’ pointed out Daniel, leaning forward.

A big if, Sam reminded herself. Ba’al could look after himself, she knew that. He was an ex-System Lord, he’d survived against all odds and Sam had been wondering for a while if he had a route off the planet which he’d ‘forgotten’ to tell her about. She forced herself to take slow breathes. It would be fine; Ba’al wouldn’t allow himself to be caught.

Landry snorted. ‘If we don’t catch him today, we’ll keep looking until we do. We have his fake name, and all the information he’s collected around his fake identity. The NID have frozen his bank account and believe me when I say he will _not_ be leaving this country.’

Sam was fairly sure Ba’al would have two bank accounts, and if anyone could make themselves disappear it was him. She just had to cross her fingers that he’d escape the NID raid and then he’d be home free.

‘Sir?’ Walter appeared in the doorway. ‘Colonel Mitchell just contacted us, he said to tell you; they’ve got him. ETA; ten minutes, sir.’

Oh God. Sam let her head fall into her hands. He was in serious trouble now. _She_ was in serious trouble now. Of all the things the meeting could have been about… Sam refused to believe that it was inevitable, but a little voice at the back of her mind whispered that she’d been playing with fire.

‘Okay, Sergeant.’ Landry went to turn back to SG-1.

‘Uh, that’s not all, sir,’ Walter said. ‘Colonel Mitchell wanted me to recommend that we send a marine team to the scene to stop the local police getting involved, the NID are there but he really thinks that-‘

‘Walter?’ asked Landry, his eyebrows drawing together.

‘Oh!’ Walter backtracked quickly. ‘The apartment block’s on fire, sir. The NID should have it out soon, but it will have drawn lots of attention and Colonel Mitchell says we won’t want anyone without security clearance going in because, well, he said everything’s upside down, sir. Literally.’

So Ba’al never had got rid of the gravity technology in his apartment. Sam wasn’t surprised, she just hoped he hadn’t killed anyone.

‘Sam, are you okay?’ Daniel was peering at her, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

She tried to pull together some form of composure; she was going to need it.

‘Yeah,’ she lied. ‘I just really thought we’d seen the last of him.’

________________________

A heavy weight settled itself on Sam’s chest as she saw Ba’al leaning against the table in the holding room. She was also feeling a distinct sense of déjà vu, but then, she’d got that the first time too.

How long would he hang about before he started telling them about her… dealings with him? He wouldn’t take the secret to his death, that was for sure; not if he thought it could help him. Then again, Sam had no intention of Ba’al’s death being the end game, and it was possible he knew that. She hoped he knew that.

It annoyed her to think that he might be sitting there, expecting her to just let him die.

‘Can’t we just shoot him?’ asked Vala, hopefully and Sam flinched slightly.

‘No,’ said Cam, folding his arms and watching Ba’al on the screen, but his reply sounded more like a reflex than anything else. Sam knew she was facing an uphill battle.

‘The Tok’ra will want him,’ noted Daniel. ‘It might even improve our relations with them.’

_That_ was definitely something Sam would have to fight tooth and nail against.

‘That’s what I said,’ Landry admitted. ‘But unfortunately, the final decision rests with the IOA and depends on NID input.’

‘Well he’ll be here for a good year then,’ Cam commented and Landry smiled.

‘We could say it was an accident,’ Vala continued as if no-one else had spoken. ‘Or how about self-defence? We say he attacked someone and it was the only reasonable-‘

‘Vala?’ said Daniel. ‘Shut up.’

‘Why don’t we see what he has to say?’ asked Sam, mostly because was struck with the overwhelming urge to actually talk to Ba’al. To see him. Also, if anyone could bluff their way out of a situation, it was Ba’al.

‘Uh, why?’ Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sam shrugged, going for nonchalant. ‘Find out what he’s doing on Earth, for one thing.’

Landry nodded. ‘I want all four of you in there; see what you can find out.’

_Yes_ , Sam thought, allowing herself a small ray of hope. This was only a small step, but it was in the right direction; no one had contacted either the Tok’ra or the free Jaffa. Yet.

As they headed down, Sam fought to walk at a reasonable pace, resisting the urge to run ahead and straighten out a story with Ba’al. Instead, she let Cam walk in first, and trailed behind him.

Ba’al looked up as they entered the interrogation room and immediately grinned. ‘I am the real Ba’al.’

Sam saw Cam roll his eyes.

Ba’al’s grin only widened. ‘My apologies, I was merely… reliving old times.’

‘Great,’ said Cam, taking the single seat in the room. ‘Well you can relive some more old times by telling us how long you’ve been on Earth and what you’ve been doing here.’

‘Oh, I’ve been on your planet a while. Why? Had you not noticed? Perhaps that was the lack of explosive devices.’ Ba’al’s gaze briefly lingered on Sam and her breath caught, then he looked away. She, at least, was safe for the moment.

‘Yeah, yeah, we get it,’ Cam replied, looking steadily at the Goa’uld. ‘You’re going to say you’re not here to kill us all and try to cut some kind of deal. Kind of predictable, don’t you think?’

Ba’al spread his hands with a slight shrug. ‘Why of course I’m going to try to... ‘cut a deal’. I’m hardly going to answer your questions freely and wind up locked in a small room for the rest of my life.’

‘Actually, we were thinking the Tok’ra might like to see you,’ put in Daniel and Sam had to suppress a wince.

‘The Tok’ra,’ As usual, Ba’al pronounced the name like it was a curse word, ‘are never pleased to see me, particularly when they believed me to be dead. And on that note… well. I _do_ have information that you will undoubtedly want.’ Ba’al smiled. ‘For example, I believe the clone you did take to the Tok’ra would have told you the original is still out there, and seeing as I am actually _not_ the original Ba’al…’

Sam narrowed her eyes, not because she’d actually believed him when he said he knew nothing about the fate of the real Ba’al, but more because she still wasn’t sure he wasn’t the ‘real’ Ba’al himself. Although the locator beacon jamming story had been fairly convincing… She mentally shook herself; it didn’t matter if he was lying, just so long as it bought them time.

‘We haven’t detected a locator beacon in you.’ said Vala, and Sam was hit with another sense of déjà vu.

‘Oh, I found a way to jam it. Fairly simple, when I designed the beacon in the first place.’ Ba’al smirked and Sam found it hard to believe he would just _tell_ them that. It had to be a lie. Then Ba’al said, ‘I can turn off the jamming signal, if it would make you feel better.’

His gaze flicked up to her and Sam realised that information had been specifically for her. If he could turn _off_ the jamming signal; she could theoretically lock _on to_ the locator beacon. Theoretically, but not while he was in the SGC. So what was the point…?

‘Yes,’ said Daniel, raising his eyebrows. ‘You should do that.’

‘All in good time.’ Ba’al leaned forward, refocusing on Daniel and the moment was lost. ‘I’ve come to like your planet and I wouldn’t mind remaining here. However, since you have made it clear that such a request would not come without a price, I would like to offer to assist you in your understanding of Goa’uld technology, in addition to helping you locate my original.’                                         

Sam resisted the urge to cross her fingers. It was an offer the SGC was unlikely to accept, to say the least, but it might make them pause long enough for her to come up with a better plan. Or to find out if Ba’al had a better plan.

‘Assuming you know where the original is,’ Daniel said, delaying an answer. Not that Ba’al was going to get one straight away. There were at least three government bodies that would fight about it first.

Ba’al laced his fingers together in front of him. ‘Oh, I do.’

Did he? Sam had her doubts. And that particularly information _did_ matter; if the original was still out there, then the SGC needed to know.

‘You could tell us that now,’ Daniel suggested. ‘So we know to believe you.’

Ba’al laughed. ‘Give you the information you want most before agreeing to a deal? No. I could give you the location of some of my old bases, however, if you truly require some information in advance.’ He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘Go and take my deal to your superiors, then I will consider what to give you.’

‘Yeah, except,’ Cam broke in, ‘we already caught your original.’

‘In that case,’ Ba’al raised his eyebrows and fixed Cam with a condescending look, ‘you won’t be interested in the information I have on him.’

Cam stared right back. ‘No, we won’t.’

Looking between them, Sam debated the wisdom of ending the stand-off. Ba’al had called Cam’s bluff, she was sure of it, but Cam was obviously still hoping to convince him and, well, Sam needed them to believe Ba’al and her team _couldn’t know that_.

Vala ended her dilemma. ‘Okay, so we didn’t _knowingly_ catch him,’ she said, earning a glare from Cam. ‘But you all went your separate ways, _we_ know that, because we were tracking all of you. So _you_ don’t know where he is.’

Ba’al tilted his head to one. ‘You weren’t tracking _me_ … or my original.’

Vala smiled sweetly at him. ‘But you’re the same person, so I would bet that you did exactly the same as the others and kept your distance in case he was caught.’

‘And I suppose you’re also adding to that ridiculous theory that I never used any form of long range communication? Really, Qetesh, you can do better than this.’

‘Vala,’ Sam automatically corrected and Ba’al propped his chin up on his hands and looked up at her.

‘You might want to consider,’ Ba’al continued, with a note of finality in his voice. ‘That the longer you refuse to agree to my terms, the more chance he will realise you’ve caught me and go into hiding.’

Daniel and Cam exchanged a look.

‘Well.’ Daniel raised his eyebrows. ‘We’d better go take your deal to our superiors.’

Sam didn’t glance back at Ba’al as they left the room, but she knew he was smiling.

________________________

The resulting bout of meetings lasted for days. Ba’al’s deal was sent to the IOA, the NID and Homeworld Security and each faction in each group had conflicting ideas of what they should and should not do.

The NID wanted Ba’al’s information. They’d been burnt enough times by the Goa’uld on Earth that they jumped at the idea of getting inside information and finally being able to stop looking over their shoulders in case they’d missed one. Homeworld Security had come to the unanimous decision that Ba’al should be executed; they didn’t care how. And the IOA…

‘The IOA still want the information he could give us,’ Landry admitted, his face clearly showing what he thought of that decision.

Hope blossomed as Sam realised she could be looking at a best case scenario. No one at the SGC would want to take Ba’al’s offer, even if he was actually telling the truth, but the IOA was a different matter. For all their over the top caution, the members of the IOA simply didn’t have the same experience with Goa’uld and were therefore far more likely to accept the carrot that Ba’al was dangling in front of their noses.

Not to mention the fear that the original Ba’al could still be out there, with Ha’taks and an army, waiting to strike…

Which Sam personally thought was very unlikely.

It didn’t really matter because, as long as it concerned the IOA, Ba’al had a chance and Sam had the opportunity to support that chance.

‘They might have a point, sir,’ she said, as though reluctantly admitting it.

To her surprise, Landry didn’t immediately dismiss her comment. ‘How so, Colonel?’

This was her chance. Her opportunity to lay out the reasons why they _should_ accept Ba’al’s terms, why they _should_ let an (ex)System Lord stay on Earth. Coming from the SGC, coming from _her_ such a statement could hold a hell of a lot of weight. If she played it right.

‘Firstly,’ she began, ‘he could actually know where the original is, and sure, getting that information would mean agreeing to his terms, but it also puts us in a much better position. Right now, if the original _is_ still out there, we have no way of finding him, or stopping him from trying to rebuild a power base. If we do a deal with this clone, we’ll capture the original, _and_ be able to keep an eye on the last Ba’al.’

‘ _If_ he even knows where the original is,’ Landry said, in an argument that had been thrown around at various people so many times in the last few days that Sam had lost count.

If her Ba’al was lying about that, which he probably was, then he was going to have to figure out a pretty damn good bluff to wriggle his way out of the consequences.

‘Fifty-fifty chance, sir,’ she told Landry. ‘No way of telling. That’s not all. We have huge amounts of Goa’uld technology, most of which we really don’t know how it works. _If_ he actually does cooperate with us, we could shave years of our research, maybe even lifetimes. And we can’t forget this is _his_ technology; he might even be persuaded to help us to build some of our own-‘

Sam trailed off because Daniel’s face had fallen like someone had just refused to let him translate the alien equivalent of the Rosetta stone. ‘What?’

Daniel looked at the NID agent present, Morton. ‘I really thought you were wrong, that they’d been a mistake. I really, _really,_ hoped you were wrong.’

‘What?’ Sam asked again, looking between Daniel, Morton and Landry. ‘What is it?’

‘They took fingerprints from Ba’al’s apartment,’ Landry said. ‘We wanted to get an idea of who his associates were, not that we were truly expecting the get a match.’

Morton interrupted with; ‘Do you want to guess what we did find, Colonel Carter?’

No, Sam didn’t want to guess. She didn’t want to guess at all, she could feel the blood draining from her face.

‘Your fingerprints, Colonel Carter,’ Morton told her. ‘Found all over Ba’al’s apartment, can you explain this?’

_Not really_ , Sam thought, staring at him. She hadn’t considered this. _How had she not considered this?_ She’d assumed it would be her word against Ba’al’s, if he cracked and decided to give the game away, this was different.

‘The NID,’ Landry shot an irritated look at Morton, ‘went straight ahead with this information and sent a forensic team to your house. I may not agree with their methods, but I _do_ need to know why they found Ba’al’s fingerprints… and a broken Sodan cloak.’

‘I have no idea, sir,’ Sam lied, sitting with her back ramrod straight. They’d been through her house. She grimaced; of course they’d been through her house and maybe if it had just been her house, her denial might have stood a chance, but with her fingerprints found at his apartment…

‘I really wouldn’t do that.’ Surprisingly, it was Daniel who spoke and he looked pained. ‘They also spoke to receptionist at the mechanics.’

Oh boy. Sam swallowed nervously. _That_ had been a mistake, but at the time she’d still been thinking about handing him in, had still considered her interests to be the same as the SGCs.

‘I didn’t…’

How far was she willing to go with this? When should she start? At the beginning, probably, but it had been such a _long_ time. Sam could feel an acidic burn at the back of her throat; they were never going to forgive her for this.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she told Landry. ‘I judged him not to be a significant threat after the loss of his ships and Jaffa, but I’ve been keeping an eye on him just in case.’

There. That sounded reasonable.

Or as reasonable as it was ever going to sound.

Which really wasn’t reasonable at all. Holy Hannah, she was _screwed_.

‘Colonel Carter,’ Landry snapped and Sam braced herself. ‘You’ve been concealing an enemy of this planet, hell of this _galaxy_ , and your excuse is that you judged he _wasn’t a threat_? You should have reported him _immediately_.’

He was right. Sam flinched.

‘I think the more pressing question is,’ said Morton, ‘ _when_ did you first encounter him?'

He wasn’t in her chain of command and technically Sam probably didn’t have to answer. Practically… Landry would ask the same question.

Sam lifted her chin and spoke to the wall across the room. Better than looking her teammates in the eye. ‘He was held captive at the Trust splinter group’s warehouse, that’s why he would have been after any surviving members.’

There was a pregnant pause, which Sam thought was completely unjustified. If they’d spoken to the kid at Ba’al’s work, then they knew she’d been aware of him for a while.

Sam snuck a look over at Daniel; he was covering his face with one hand. Vala was staring at her with wide eyes, so Sam discretely pulled a _I’m so screwed_ face at her and was rewarded with a sympathetic look. Thank God Vala, at least, hadn’t disowned her.

‘Um, the IOA… do they actually want to work with him?’ Sam asked, because, well, she _had_ to know. Particularly as it was looking like she’d just been set up specifically to see if she would jump to Ba’al’s defence and Sam was prepared to get pretty damn angry about that.

‘What the _IOA_ want is unimportant at this point.’ Landry looked over at Cam and Daniel. ‘Go ahead and contact the Tok’ra.’

‘Wait, _no_ ,’ Sam protested. They weren’t doing this just because of her… were they? ‘The host is long gone, we can’t just hand him over to the Tok’ra.’

‘Actually…’ Cam shrugged, but he was avoiding her eyes. ‘We know they’ll want him, and they have something we want.’

Daniel leaned forward. ‘Sam… have you considered the possibility of brainwashing?’

Oh God.

‘I haven’t been brainwashed, Daniel.’

‘But how do you know?’ asked Cam.

‘You remember when Apophis brainwashed Teal’c?’ continued Daniel gently. ‘And Ba'al brainwashed Malcolm Barrett?’

‘Of course I do,’ Sam said and they had a point. If she had been brainwashed, then she wouldn’t know it, although she was certain she hadn’t. Well. Ninety-nine percent sure, but that was about as good as you could get. A little flame of doubt lit itself in a far corner of Sam’s mind before she ruthlessly stamped it out. ‘I’m not brainwashed.’

Which was what she would say if she _had_ been brainwashed, of course. Sam had the sinking feeling that she’d just run headlong into an argument she had no way of winning.

Landry looked less than impressed, but he turned to Morton. ‘We’re keeping her here, no arguments. Dr. Jackson, Colonel Mitchell, get me that Za’tarc detector.’

A Za’tarc detector would offer indisputable evidence that she hadn’t been brainwashed, but the cost… They would hand Ba’al over and this _would_ make it her fault.

‘You can’t give him to the Tok’ra! They’ll torture him,’ Sam snapped because this was what had started it all, wasn’t it? Her unwillingness to hand Ba’al over to the Tok’ra for likely torture and execution.

‘We can,’ said Cam. ‘Particularly if it helps show you what he’s done to you.’

And that was apparently the end of that, because two SFs arrived and all but frog-marched Sam to the nearest holding cell. To their credit, one of them looked at her sympathetically… as he closed the door behind her.

Oh yeah, Sam thought bitterly as she aimed a kick at the bunk bed, she’d been playing with fire.

And she’d just been burnt.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next time she left the cell, she was taken straight to the za’tarc detector. Sam closed her eyes briefly when she saw it and the Tok’ra operating it; they’d done it. They’d made a deal with the Tok’ra and were going to send Ba’al there. Sam had to hope that they hadn’t yet, that they were holding him as an insurance policy to make sure the Tok’ra would help her if they _did_ find evidence of brainwashing.

Which they weren’t going to.

The Tok’ra didn’t introduce herself, probably she considered anyone who was with Ba’al an enemy. Sam resented that.

She stared into the za’tarc detector and tried not to remember the first time she’d done the same. She’d had to admit something quite different then, something she’d since let slip through her fingers. Taking a deep breath, Sam set herself to answering the questions as carefully as possible; she couldn’t risk a false positive.

And it was going fine, it really was, until…

‘And,’ the Tok’ra said, looking at Sam with clear distaste. ‘Have you ever slept in his presence?’

Sam gritted her teeth. ‘I don’t see how that’s relevant.’

‘It’s extremely relevant, in fact, directly before and after sleep is when you are least likely to have noticed a loss of time.’

‘Yes,’ Sam managed to say, despite her growing suspicion that the Tok’ra was _trying_ to humiliate her. ‘I have.’

‘Hmm.’ The Tok’ra looked her dead in the eye. ‘What was the first instant and could you relate the events before and after sleep.’

Sam could feel her cheeks flaming. ‘No. Isn’t it enough to say I’m sure I don’t have any lost time when I was… sleeping in his presence?’

She could feel the blush travelling down her neck and Sam wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor. Or maybe storm out. She wanted to storm out, but then they’d still think she was brainwashed; she was beginning to think she could live with that.

‘No, it is not.’ The Tok’ra was shaking his head. ‘The za’tarc detector only works if-‘

The door flung open and General Landry stormed in. ‘We made a deal with you, but that deal did _not_ include humiliating my people.’

Sam stared at him in surprise. He didn’t even glance over at her, but she supposed it was a start; a start that she was very, very grateful for.

‘I was merely-‘

Landry scowled. ‘I know what you were doing and if you continue, I’m going to get one of my own people to ask the questions.’

‘Very well,’ said the Tok’ra, with an expression like she’s just bitten into a lemon. ‘I will make sure to use the appropriate _respect_.’

She and Landry were still squaring off in a staring competition when Carolyn Lam strode into the room.

‘I’ll be monitoring the rest of this interview,’ she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. ‘Purely for the sake of my patient’s health.’

The Tok’ra broke eye contact with Landry and bowed her head. ‘Of course.’

The rest of the interview was conducted with, if not respect because the Tok’ra could never show respect to someone who was clearly sleeping with a Goa’uld, then at least enough consideration to what Landry had said that Sam managed to avoid either blushing again, or storming out of the room.

Not that she didn’t still want to storm out of the room, just that she no longer had a good enough excuse to. She decided she was in _more_ than enough trouble already.

The za’tarc detector gave her the all-clear and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Mo matter how sure she had been, it was _Ba’al_ she’d been dealing with. Now they might actually listen to her; she’d been there long enough, she’d won respect and friendship through the base, surely her opinion would count. Her career was over, had been over the second they found out, but at least she could still save his life. Sam took a deep breathe to try and talk some sense into _someone_ …

Then Malcolm Barrett’s voice sliced through the air; ‘Her _fingerprints_ were in his _bedroom_!’

And the shit _really_ hit the fan.

Malcolm was on the warpath and Sam found herself whisked away before he could actually start ranting at _her_ , but that turned out to be the least of her problems.

Vala dropped by periodically, and probably without permission, to update her. The NID still wanted Ba’al and were close to resorting to shouting and throwing things when Landry reminded them of the deal with the Tok’ra, which was still happening despite the IOA also genuinely arguing that Ba’al could be useful. Sam clung to their argument, trying to lend it support even as it was slipping through her grasp. The IOA _and_ the NID wanted her to be locked up and never let out and Sam had a horrible feeling there were people in the SGC who agreed. But then, there wasn’t really any ground to dispute the issue. The words _dishonourable discharge_ were thrown around.

Sam considered that a foregone conclusion, and tried not to feel too bad about it. Even if she had worked her ass off for her rank, followed all the rules for so many years…

The next rumour was life imprisonment and Sam was beginning to think it couldn’t get any worse.

‘I want to see Ba’al,’ she announced and Vala stopped visiting her. Sam hoped that wasn’t her own decision.

It hurt that she didn’t see Daniel.

It was too quiet in her cell, too quiet and too calm considering the whirlwind of activity and accusations that Sam knew lay just beyond the door. She drummed her fingers on the desk and wondered if Ba’al was okay (they’d have told her before they took him through the gate, _wouldn’t they?_ ). Maybe things would calm down enough for her to actually get through to someone, maybe the IOA would get their way without, or perhaps despite, her own input.

Sam clasped her hands together to stop herself from hitting something. Ba’al was facing a death sentence and she was sitting there _helpless_. But someone would step in, someone would prevent it from happening, anything else was unthinkable.

Nervous energy won out and she got up and started pacing. He’d died before. She’d seen him die before and it hadn’t bothered her like this, but this was different, this was _her_ Ba’al, her ex-System Lord, and she wasn’t sure how she’d manage without him.

‘Hey!’ Sam hammered on the door. ‘Hey! I want to see Ba’al!’

Even just on a screen, just to know he was still there. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

No-one opened the door.

_______________________

When they finally led her out of the cell, it wasn’t any of her team members accompanying the SFs; just a sour faced guy who Sam thought could have been NID, or maybe IOA. Although Sam was fairly sure she knew all the IOA members, so she decided he must be NID. He looked like he was itching to question her, but held his tongue.

Sam wondered if she was being led to the isolation room to be interrogated. Probably, and she still had no decent defence. Never mind something that would help Ba’al as well as her. Hopefully he’d managed to persuade them he was valuable enough to keep around.

They reached the isolation room and Sam tensed, bracing herself for a battering with impossible questions.

The NID guy glared at her. ‘You have ten minutes.’

Sam practically did a double take; she had ten minutes to what? Sit in the corner? Think about what she’d done? Why bother taking her out of her cell? Then one of the SFs opened the door and Ba’al was sitting at the isolation room table.

It looked like it had been snowing. So much so that Sam stopped dead in the doorway, her relief at seeing him derailed from the surprise.

Someone had given Ba’al white post-it notes and a pen and as she watched Ba’al peeled one off the top of the pile and let it float down to the floor, then he looked up at her and _smirked_. The SF next to her surveyed the mess with poorly concealed irritation. Whoever had granted Ba’al his post-it notes would surely be regretting it.

Ba’al sat back in his chair and raised his eyebrows. ‘Samantha. Finally.’

Sam scoped a couple of post-it notes off the floor and examined them. One had a single hieroglyph in the centre, while the other was so crammed with them it was barely white anymore.

‘What,’ she asked, sitting down opposite him, ‘are you doing?’

‘An IOA representative suggested that if I were to give them some useful information it would help my situation. I asked for some writing materials.’

That made sense. Someone at the SGC had clearly taken exception to the request and had thought it would be funny to give Ba’al post-it notes, rather than actual paper. And Ba’al, who didn’t take well to being slighted, was making them rethink that decision. Sam wanted to smack some sense into him.

At least now she knew the IOA _were_ thinking about taking his deal; she supposed that was something.

Another post-it note fluttered down to the floor.

‘Wouldn’t it make sense to give it to someone then?’ Sam asked as Ba’al started writing again. ‘This isn’t time for games, they’ve already spoken to the Tok’ra. If the IOA have given you a chance, you need to take it _seriously_.’ Sam gestured around the cell. ‘This is not helpful, it’s not… it’s not even in _English_ Ba’al!’

He studied the post-it note in front of him thoughtfully. ‘Ah, so it isn’t.’

Sam resisted the urge to get him by the shoulders and shake him. ‘This is your _life_ we’re talking about!’

‘What about your life?’ Ba’al looked her up and down, then he carefully peeled off another square and allowed it to slide out of his grasp. Sam had a feeling the chance the IOA had offered him was going the same way.

She couldn’t let it happen.

‘ _I_ am going to be locked up somewhere, not _killed_ ,’ Sam snapped.

Ba’al curled a lip and looked directly into the camera. ‘Your friends are not very loyal if that’s truly the case.’

If she had to bet, Sam would have said Daniel would be watching that feed, translating whatever Ba’al was writing as he wrote it (assuming it wasn’t gibberish, god she hoped it wasn’t giberish), so maybe his tactic wasn’t entirely useless. But it didn’t help _him._

‘I’m not here to talk about me.’ Somehow she had to get through to his stubborn, scheming brain that this was actually happening. ‘They’ve promised to send you to the Tok’ra!’

Ba’al tore off another note and, ironically, Sam had to resist the urge to throttle him. ‘Yes, they made sure I knew _that_.’

As he spoke Ba’al was writing on the post-its again, but this time he moved his arm slightly so that it concealed the note from the camera. Curious, Sam peered over the table, but it was just more hieroglyphs that he allowed to harmlessly float to the floor. Or not so harmlessly. Sam really was beginning to see each fluttering piece of paper as another nail in his coffin.

She lunged forward and swiped the post-it note pad off the table. ‘Damn it, Ba’al!’

Ba’al tutted at her and wasted no time in slowly reaching down to reclaim it. ‘That was a pointless exercise, Samantha, and hardly very intelligent.’

Swallowing hard, Sam focused her gaze on the table. ‘I can’t sit here and let you destroy what small chance you have. I _can’t_ do that.’

The sound of him peeling off another post-it note was almost the last straw. Then Ba’al reached across the table, took her hand in one smooth gesture and transferred a note into her palm.

It wasn’t just one note, though, there was a second still attached underneath and while the first was just a few hieroglyphs that she couldn’t read… on the second Sam caught a glimpse of a short not and a gate address.

A gate address? What was she supposed to do with a gate address, aside from the obvious?

‘I don’t know what you expect me to do,’ Sam confided, softly. She made a show of tucking the post-it notes she’d swiped off the floor on the way in into her pocket, the ones Ba’al had handed her went up her sleeve, hopefully unseen.

Ba’al looked up and held her gaze, one eyebrow lifting slightly as if in a silent challenge. ‘Whatever you think is best.’

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

‘There isn’t enough _time_ ,’ Sam reminded him, frustrated. There were ways, she supposed (she hoped), to get him out, but none that she could arrange in the few short hours before he was handed over to the Tok’ra. Particularly not when she also had to get herself out.

To her surprise, Ba’al grinned like she’d just cracked a joke. ‘On the contrary. You could have… all the time in the world.

Back in her cell, Sam stared at the stargate address, concealing it from the camera and wondering if she should try it. The short note Ba’al had written wasn’t giving her any clues. Maybe he’d been concerned that someone else would read it, maybe he just liked being cryptic, but whatever the reason, Ba’al had chosen to be infuriatingly brief. Written below the gate address in carefully printed letters that suggested he was more comfortable writing in Egyptian hieroglyphs than English, Ba’al’s note simply read;

_Be cautious. I do not know what went wrong._

Sam mulled it over and over in her mind to no avail. It was unusual enough for Ba’al to admit to ignorance, but…; he didn’t know what went wrong with _what_? Was she expected to know? Or just work it out when she got there?

So. She was supposed to go to this gate address where she should _be cautious_ and do _whatever was best_. Or maybe that had been, she should only go to the gate address if she thought it was a good idea?

Brilliant. These types of riddles were more of Daniel’s area. Why hadn’t he set her a complex equation to solve instead?

Really, there was nothing to go on, but if she didn’t do _something_ then Ba’al would die. He might have got himself into the situation, but she was his only hope of getting out of it again.

There was really only one way to find out what Ba’al’s cryptic note was supposed to mean.

Under normal circumstances, breaking out of the SGC was difficult, if not impossible, even for someone with her skills. Normal circumstances, however, didn’t come into it; not when an alien computer virus had spent the last few days entrenching itself in the SGC’s computer system.

Sam was certain she could get out of her cell or, more accurately, she was certain she would be _taken_ out of her cell. Then all she would need to do was get to a computer and she could manipulate the virus to give her access to the gate. And they wouldn’t be able to stop her, not without shooting her and Sam was 90 per cent sure they wouldn’t shoot her. Unless she had Ba’al with her.

Massaging her temples didn’t help with _that_ problem. She could get herself out, but the time it would take to make her way to Ba’al’s cell – a significant distance from the gate because of obvious security reasons – and get them both to the gate would be too long. Virus or no, there would still be personnel who would get themselves through a blast door given enough time, or organise a strike force in the gate room.

Over a decade of using the Stargate meant there were some pretty efficient protocols in place.

Even if she tried to reach his cell… there was no guarantee she’d be able to get him out.

No. She would have to move fast, and she would have to leave Ba’al behind.

He _must_ have known she’d have to, why else give her to gate address? There _must_ be something at that address that would help her free him and something she could do _quickly_. At least, Sam sincerely hoped so; Ba’al’s life rested on her logic being sound.

_________________________

The door to her cell opened and Sam stood up as Cam walked in looking, well, awkward. She was sorry about that, she really was.

‘Cam,’ she greeted, more than a bit cautiously. She hadn’t seen him around, didn’t know what his opinion was… but she could guess. It was hard to believe any of her team actually wanting to support her choices, and she understood that.

‘Hell of a mess,’ he said, instead of returning her greeting. It wasn’t straight out hostile or confrontational though, which was nice.

‘I’ll bet,’ Sam muttered, squashing the urge to apologise. Despite his assurance, Ba’al didn’t have time for her to mess around. ‘Cam, I need you to get them to, at the very least, hold off sending Ba’al to the Tok’ra.’

‘See, I _knew_ you were going to say that.’ Cam studied her for a minute and sighed. ‘He’s a System Lord, Sam, and we already promised the Tok’ra we’d hand him over. Jackson keeps telling us not to piss off out allies and I’m damn certain that would qualify.’ He made a helpless gesture. ‘But, hey, I’m here and I’m listening. Convince me.’

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. How had Ba’al put it to her, when he’d still been convincing her not to hand him in? It must have been good, because it had swayed her pretty effectively.

‘He hasn’t got anything left, Cam. No ships, no Jaffa; the Goa’uld empire is gone and never coming back, which means he’s really no danger to us anymore.’ She paused, expecting Cam to dispute that point, but he just waved her on. ‘If we give him to the Tok’ra they’ll torture him for information that we just don’t need anymore.’

Cam pulled a face. ‘Yeah, except we don’t know how many lower Goa’uld survived, do we? Could be that the Goa’uld empire is just waiting to re-emerge.’

‘But they’d never rise-‘

‘Hey,’ Cam cut across her. ‘Let me finish my argument _before_ you interrupt.’

Sam closed her mouth and nodded. She was skating on too thin ice to risk antagonising him.

‘So. We _don’t_ know if he could regain power and we actually don’t know if he’s already trying, since he claims his original is still out there, which, by the way, counts as a _threat_.’ Cam folded his arms. ‘Long story short, we need to know about the original Ba’al, you know that.’

There was something about the way he was looking at her that made Sam uncomfortable. Inquiring. Was there a hidden message in there somewhere? When she realised what it was, the bottom dropped out of her stomach and left her struggling to blurt out an explanation.

‘ _I_ don’t know where Ba’al’s original is! He never said anything about that to me, if he’d even _hinted_ there was another version of him out there I’d have handed him in immediately, I wouldn’t stand back and let him try and rebuild!’ She wasn’t sure whether she was hurt that Cam had asked or _furious_.

Cam had the good grace to wince. ‘Yeah, but is it possible he said nothing to you because his original is actually dead?’

Sam eyed him, hating the mutual need for suspicion. Was that why he was here? He wanted to try and undermine Ba’al’s strongest bargaining chip… and he was probably right. There’d been no news for too long, Sam honestly believed her Ba’al was the last, and that he was bluffing. She was torn between supporting his bluff and trying to win the immediate battle, or calling it to force him into something more genuine. If he made a deal based on information he didn’t have…

This wasn’t her strong suit. It boiled down to politic-like conversations, bluff and counterbluff, a few lies mixed in with the truth or vice versa, always used to find a stronger position. No, it wasn’t her area; but it was Ba’al’s. It was what the Goa’uld spent their lives doing; Underlords waiting to rebel against their System Lord, bluffing, watching for weakness… Daniel had studied the Goa’uld culture fairly extensively.

If there was a way to bluff his way into a stronger position, Ba’al would find it.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Like I said, I would have handed him in, so he wouldn’t have told me.’

‘Sam…’ Cam winced again, looking up towards the ceiling. ‘I need your honest opinion; is his original still alive?’

‘I just told you, I have no idea. Only he knows, Cam, and you can bet he’s done that on purpose. I guess you’ll just have to ask him.’

Cam stared at her, Sam stared right back.

He shook his head. ‘This looks bad, I gotta tell you. Helping an enemy, hiding him… listen, I pulled a few strings to be in here rather than someone from the NID, mostly because I needed to tell you there’s a hell of a tug of war going on out there. There’s a lot on angry people saying you’ve betrayed us and if you have _anything…_ he’s not worth it.’

Sam gritted her teeth and mentally counted to ten. ‘I do have something. I have my opinion that he could really help us understand the stacks of alien technology we’ve collected over the last decade, and he may not be _worth it_ , but the Tok’ra hate him and he doesn’t deserve to be sent to them.’

‘Okay, okay, I figured you wouldn’t back down. Needed to try though.’ Cam sighed. ‘Look, Sam… I need the note you picked up from his cell.’

Sam hesitated, then reached into her pocket to pull out the sticky notes, hoping to hell he hadn’t noticed the ones up her sleeve. ‘It’s not a secret message, Cam, I can’t even read it.’

‘Yeah, well, have to check these things.’ Cam took the notes off her and pulled a face at the hieroglyphs.

‘Give it to Daniel,’ Sam advised, wondering what the hell Ba’al had written.

‘Doubt it will be any more helpful than the others,’ muttered Cam under his breath, before looking back at her. ‘I pretty much already asked, but the NID will kill me if I don’t say it outright so; what’s his game, Sam? What’s he hoping to achieve?’

Sam looked him in the eye. ‘Survival.’

Cam rocked back on his heels. ‘Carter…’ He shook his head. ‘Okay. Well you can probably expect a visit from the NID ‘cause that’s not going to be enough for them and… oh man, I shouldn’t tell you this, but we’ve got representatives from NID and IOA already here and we’re expecting some guys from Homeworld in an hour or so.’

Ice shivered down her spine. No.

‘Homeworld security? Are they sending…’ She couldn’t ask. She couldn’t face that, not when it was Ba’al she was trying to defend.

‘Who else?’ Cam actually sounded apologetic, he turned to leave, then waved his hand in an indecisive gesture. ‘This is weird… I just… I hope you know what you’re doing.’

She sat staring off into space long after he’d left.

General Jack O’Neill was running Homeworld Security. He was coming to the SGC.

Sam let her head fall back against the wall. No way, no way in hell, was she staying there to talk this through with Jack O’Neill. She couldn’t, she just _couldn’t_.

She was going to have to go ahead with her plan, she realised, her far from watertight plan that meant relying on Ba’al’s cryptic note.

It also relied on being led out of her cell, which was made easier when the NID decided they weren’t _at all_ satisfied with Cam’s interview and needed her in the interrogation room _immediately._ They sent two SFs; they probably thought it was enough within the mountain.

Holding her head high and trying to relax her body language, Sam allowed herself to be lead out of her cell. It was embarrassingly easy to take out her guards, mostly because they hadn’t been expecting her to try. They were armed with zats, so Sam took the one from the guard behind her and stunned the guy in front. Free, armed and right next to a room with a computer terminal.

Sam ducked into the room and sealed the door behind her. They would know what she’d done; they would have been watching her on the security cameras. She thought she had no more than five minutes before they reached her, which would be fine, if Ba’al’s virus proved as effective as she suspected.

If not… she was already up the damn creek. So they’d catch her trying to escape, what possible difference could it make?

The virus had well and truly entrenched itself in the SGC’s computers and had done it completely unnoticed. It was possibly the most unnerving thing Sam had seen all year. They’d have a job on their hands trying to remove it, but they’d have the chance; as soon as she used it, they’d know it was there. In the end, it would serve the purpose she’d wanted; the SGC computers would be made safe from any future attack.

Sam typed hurriedly, inputting the necessary commands to the system, and _there_. Active. The SGC computers were in lock down, the gate dialling a random safe address, and the bulk heads closed, aside from those she needed to get to the gate room.

Ba’al, however, was still locked up.

‘Damn it,’ Sam muttered, scanning through the information in front of her. She couldn’t disable the SGC’s jamming program, so even if Ba’al could make his locator beacon visible… Sam shook her head. She would go to his gate address; there would be something there to help him, there _had_ to be.

As it was, she was running out of time.

Zat at the ready, Sam leapt from her chair and cautiously opened the door. Clear. For the moment. It wouldn’t take them too long to get back in, Sam had made sure of that. She couldn’t risk giving herself more time at the expense of the SGC’s security.

Sam ran down her clear hallways, having to stun one pair of SFs on the way. She felt bad about that – getting stunned was never fun – but she had no choice. They would have stopped her.

The stargate had begun dialling her address when Sam barrelled into the gate room.

_Come on,_ she thought as the fourth chevron engaged. _Hurry up._

Seconds. She had seconds and they might have been casual about guarding her before but now… Sam knew this was her only chance. And Ba’al’s only chance.

The seventh chevron locked. The wormhole engaged and Sam held her breath, hoping they hadn’t managed to regain control of the iris yet. The iris was vital, so she’d made it one of the easiest systems to restore.

Sam ran forward and the iris didn’t close. The wormhole shimmered in front of her and Sam paused, looking back towards the control room.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach; the view screen into the gate room _wasn’t blocked off_. That bulkhead had refused to close – or maybe they’d got it open – and Sam found herself staring directly at Walter Harriman. He wasn’t alone.

Behind him stood her team, staring down at her and suddenly Sam was rooted to the spot. How could she do this to them?

How could she abandon everything? It was already lost, she reminded herself. Gone, as soon as they’d caught Ba’al. Who, barring a miracle, she was also abandoning.

Then Daniel gave her a little wave and Sam understood. They were letting her go, trusting her judgement, or respecting her decision, Sam didn’t know. Maybe both.

It helped though; Sam turned and stepped through the wormhole, leaving the SGC – and Earth – behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

__________________________

She couldn’t go straight to Ba’al’s gate address. While the gate system was frustratingly difficult to use to track someone, it was conceivably possible to follow someone across two gate addresses. After three, the task became near impossible. Sam went to five different planets before dialling the address Ba’al had given her.

A precaution that took time, time that she knew she might not have, but Sam couldn’t afford to lead the SGC there. Wherever it was.

Hopefully not a desert planet or something; now was not the time for Ba’al to be playing a trick on her.

He wasn’t.

As she stepped out of the wormhole Sam found herself in standing on a platform with three main arms, one had a ring platform, the other a console and she stood in the third, where the Stargate stood, but in the middle…

Sam took in the middle column, which stretched up above her head, and wondered what the hell she had got herself into.

Despite Ba’al’s smug statement, there was no time to lose, so Sam headed straight for the console. She tapped at it impatiently, a hologram came up and Sam found herself looking at thousands of stars dancing in the air before her.

‘Wow,’ she breathed, because this would have taken a long time to set up. Ba’al was monitoring each of them, so they all had to have a satellite, but why? Why go to all that trouble to monitor stars in real time?

The answer came in a flash of light as one of the stars came to the front and Sam watched the solar flare build and fall.

‘You _bastard_.’ Sam stared at hologram with dismay.

Solar flares! Sam didn’t need to stop and think why Ba’al would want to monitor solar flares, she’d had more than enough experience with their effect on wormholes; her main question was why the hell he hadn’t used his time machine. It was a lot of trouble to go to if he hadn’t even used the thing.

But of course he had. Just not the Ba’al she’d met.

‘Where did you go?’ Sam asked, working on the console.

There in front of her was the answer, already dug up from depths of the data stream, probably by the Ba’al she was currently trying to save. Sam rocked back on her heels.

Earth. 1939.

No way. His intention was obvious, but… why was she even here to find this out? The timeline should have been erased, because Ba’al wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble if he wanted to keep it intact. Something clearly _had_ gone wrong, but what? It was definitely something she needed to know if she was going to use the device herself.

Sam sucked in a sharp breath.

_Was_ she going to use the time machine?

Ba’al had told her to do what she thought was best, well Sam _knew_ what was _best_ and it sure as hell wasn’t what he wanted her to do. Sam figured she could set an overload in the middle tower without much trouble. Except…

Where would that leave Ba’al?

It would leave him at the Tok’ra. For death. Extraction. Or torture.

‘Only you!’ Sam yelled at Ba’al’s creation.

Of all the smug, self-centred _arrogance_! She didn’t want him to die, but she could not, _would not_ , erase a timeline for him! It would be so easy from here, to wait until she could go back to a convenient time, to stop him from being caught by the Trust splinter group, to prevent him from meeting that version of her. Any one of a thousand actions could save him.

Leaving two Samantha Carters in the timeline of course, but that was the _least_ of her problems.

There had to be another way!

Sam chewed her lip. She didn’t necessarily need to change the _past_ , she just needed enough time to change the future…

If she could send herself back only a few months she could prepare and instead of preventing the SGC from capturing him, she could _rescue_ him.

If she was careful, very, _very_ careful, then she could achieve it without erasing the timeline and prevent there from being two of her… It was a risk, but undeniably possible. They’d done it when they’d gone back to 1969, hadn’t they?

Obviously she couldn’t gate to Earth. She’d have to go somewhere else, acquire a ship, preferably a cargo ship with working cloak, and then she’d be in business. Ba’al had a few abandoned planets that should do the trick.

One wrong move though….

Sam banished that thought, but she knew of a cargo ship that was pretty much perfect. The SG-1 had found it six months earlier and later a science team had been sent to fix it, Sam herself had taken a brief look at it, but the operation had been cut short when they realised it was going to take longer than expected to get it off the ground and even longer to fully restore _all_ systems.

Since the SGC _had_ ships, they’d abandoned the project, although officially it was only delayed.

One of the problems with the ship had been its cloak; no matter how hard the team had tried, they hadn’t been able to disable it. That made Sam fairly confident it would still be there.

It also contained a stash of food, one of the few the SG teams liked to leave on known planets in case of emergency. MREs and powerbars weren’t the best thing in the world, particularly not when you were stuck with them for two months, but it was still _food_.

Of course, she’d still have to create Ba’al’s virus from scratch and figure out how to program it to take down the jamming technology that prevented anyone from locking onto a signal within the SGC. Unless Ba’al had a way around it, but Sam liked to think they would have noticed if Ba’al had implanted himself with _multiple_ locator beacons.

Fix the ship, write a computer virus, break Ba’al out. Three simple steps, and yet a hell of a lot of work.

She needed more time than she had, that was the one thing she was certain of. So if she was to rescue Ba’al, she needed to use the time machine and once she’d used the time machine… well she could infect the system with a dormant program long before Ba’al had even invented the thing.

The ship she had in mind had beaming technology, she was sure of it. It was a cargo ship in Ba’al’s old territory and he’d installed the beam technology into most of his fleet. The Asgard beam was, as far as she was aware undamaged, in fact, (aside from the cloak) the only thing damaged beyond repair was weapons and Sam was determined she wasn’t going to need the weapons.

She would repair the ship, use the virus to take down the SGC’s jamming program, beam Ba’al out and be gone before anyone could pinpoint her.

Taking down the jamming program would be the hardest part, because it was designed so you _couldn’t_ tamper with it remotely, but Ba’al’s virus had shown a remarkable ability to jump between systems and Sam thought she could do it, even enough time to make the modifications.

Perfect. Her plan was perfect.

If only she could pull it off without permanently altering the timeline.

And, just as importantly, making sure no one else ever used Ba’al’s time machine again. To that end, Sam began to set up an overload that would take out central column and collapse the cavern-like structure that housed it. She could start the overload just before she walked through the wormhole, it _would_ mean no second chances if she missed the solar flare, but Sam knew she had to do it. She couldn’t count on Ba’al letting her destroy it after she’d picked him up.

It took her hours to find a solar flare and matching destination that would do, and Sam used that time to think up new and hopefully imaginative ways of killing Ba’al. She steadfastly ignored the irony in that, but it _was_ hard not to want to punch him, at the very least.

He’d never said a word.

A time machine, that he _knew_ his original had used, just sitting there. Maybe he’d been planning on using it, just as soon as he’d figured out what had happened to the original plan. Maybe he’d been hoping for another try at the original plan, which she _didn’t need to know the details of_ because the time machine on its own made her want to _break his nose_. Again.

Sam looked at her watched and dialled the address, hitting each symbol with more force than strictly necessary. She wanted to _strangle him_ , even though his superior strength would make that next to impossible.

What was she doing?

Going back in time just over two months so she could spend the time devising a plan to break the last of the Goa’uld SystemLords _out_ of the SGC. And Sam had thought her life had been crazy when she’d first stepped through a wormhole to another world.

Speaking of which… the wormhole engaged and Sam started the overload before hurrying toward it, blocking out the doubts. She’d made up her mind and she was going to need every ounce of focus she had to pull it off.

Everything looked ordinary as she stepped out of the wormhole and for a second she was worried it hadn’t worked. Had she been too slow getting to the stargate? How did you know if you’d gone back in time?

Particularly only two months.

Sam stopped next to the DHD, and surveyed the area around her, then looked back at the stargate. Nothing was offering up any clues.

‘Ok-ay.’ Sam frowned at the gate.

Well, if she’d done something wrong then there was really nothing she could do about it because the core of Ba’al time machine would already be exploding. And if she had successfully travelled back in time… then the clock had starting ticking again and she needed to get moving.

Another stargate trip and a long trek later and Sam had arrived at her chosen cargo ship. Or rather, in the general area of the cargo ship, seeing as its cloak was stuck permanently on.

She looked across the large sandy area and ruins of a Goa’uld base. Somewhere there was the cargo ship, only she couldn’t remember _exactly_ where.

Sam sighed. ‘Nuts.’

The last thing she wanted was to run straight into it, so Sam bent down and scooped up a handful of sand, tossing it in front of her. Nothing. Walking forward where she’d thrown the sand, she grabbed some more, sweeping her arm in a semi-circle as she threw it.

It fell to the ground in all directions, as normal.

It did give her an idea though. If she was using the sand to find the ship, then it was more than likely that the weather conditions in the area, although mild, would have already done the job for her and therefore she was looking in the wrong place.

She tried to remember back to when her team had found the ship. They’d been exploring the ruins looking for Goa’uld technology to scavenge, when Vala had found it. _Not_ by walking straight into in, but nearly. Still, they’d been walking around the base for a while before that had happened and by that time they been… on the opposite side of the ruins to the ‘gate.

Sam allowed herself a relieved smile and picked her way through to the other side of the base.

There, she could see more sand, with a few shrub-like bushes, and short, yet obvious, wall of sand that was being held up by nothing at all.

Placing her hands on hull of the cargo ship, Sam walked carefully up and down, trying to find the door.

Finding it was the easy part, punching in the six digit code when she couldn’t see the buttons was much more of a challenge. A really _frustrating_ challenge.

Sam’s first impression on exploring the cargo ship was that it wasn’t in too bad shape. It still needed a lot of work, but she’d known that. The second thing she noticed was that there was significantly less food stored there then she’d remembered. Nowhere near enough for two months.

Kneeling down next to the stock pile, Sam did a quick inventory and estimated that she had enough for about three weeks. More if she rationed, although there didn’t seem to be a lot of point in rationing, not when she was going to have to go out and find food anyway.

That would mean interacting with people.

Sam resisted the urge to aim a kick at something.

Sure, she’d known spending two months alone would be pretty hard, but it was _necessary_ because she couldn’t risk seeing someone who knew her, or accidentally altering events without even knowing it.

Now… now her options were either try to ration and come close to starving herself to death or risk it.

For Ba’al.

It all came back to that. Maybe, _maybe_ she would have felt more comfortable with the potential consequences if it had been one of her team… Ba’al was another matter. Whatever _she_ thought of him, in the grand scheme of things he’d done way more harm than good and Cam’s words kept coming back to her.

_He’s not worth it._

Was he worth it? To her; yes. Sam had come far enough to know that _and_ he was counting on her, seeing as he’d somehow expected that she _would_ be willing to mess around with a time machine to save his life.

It was a really stupid risk to be taking, Sam knew that. Ba’al seemed to like risks. A _lot_.

After all, he’d taken the risk to contact her, which was, undeniably, a really stupid thing to have done. Except for the part where he’d apparently known it would be fine, and that _still_ bothered her, even after all the risks she’d taken for him since, the personal tangle she’d got herself into, that one assumption still felt like a sucker punch.

At what point had Ba’al decided that she, Samantha Carter, labelled a damn national treasure by General Jack O’Neill (not that he’d been a general at the time), would want to work with an enemy.

It was probably not something he’d ever tell her, although... Sam had a suspicion that she finally knew _why_ he’d approached her. It was definitely something she’d have to confront him about.

In the meantime… she would have to take the risk and get food.

Squaring her shoulders, Sam moved to take a look at the ships engines. She’d got herself into the situation and now she had to go through with it. Although, under the circumstances, the phrase _what’s done is done_ seemed a little inappropriate.

_________________________

In just under three weeks, Sam had the ship flight worthy. It wasn’t completely fixed by any means; it was a patch that she still needed to fully repair, except she didn’t have equipment and she was nearly out of food.

Sam picked a planet that she knew was pretty densely populated, and had a decent market where she’d be able to trade bits and pieces on the ship she _didn’t_ need for the things she did. And food, hopefully _fresh_ food because MREs were made to last and that was pretty much the only good thing about them.

She flew the cargo ship there, in hyperspace, all the time anxiously watching for any signs that the engines were going to explode. It was more likely than Sam was really comfortable with, but she didn’t want to leave the cargo ship behind, just in case.

Miraculously, it arrived in one piece and Sam had gathered enough data from the brief test flight to know _exactly_ what parts she needed.

She didn’t find all of them in the market, but she did find enough to make a reasonable fix and found _food_ , not all of it fresh, of course, since she needed a supply that wasn’t going to go off. Still, it had _flavour._

They’d been other benefits to going to the market, namely other people around. Under the circumstances that should have been a bad thing, but although Sam had never minded her own company, nearly _three weeks_ with no one else had been more than enough.

Well, she was going to stay on the planet when she finished up with the cargo ship repairs, so Sam decided wandering around the market every few days couldn’t hurt.

It only took three days for her to realise her mistake.

‘I was not expecting to see you here.’ The familiar voice stopped Sam in her tracks and she resisted the urge to simply bolt.

Teal’c would _definitely_ say something to the SGC if she just ran away, or simply chase after her.

Sam turned to face him, trying to paste on a smile. ‘Hi.’

‘Are you well, Samantha Carter?’ Teal’c asked, looking concerned.

Sam opened her mouth to assure him that she was and stopped as Teal’c raised an eyebrow at her. He knew her too well, and there was no way he wouldn’t find it weird that she was off world by herself. She could, Sam supposed, try to lie, but it was _Teal’c_ and he’d actually understand (and appreciate) a more truthful explanation.

‘Actually, I was kind of hoping not to see anyone I knew.’ Sam paused, but Teal’c just waited patiently for her to continue. ‘You see, I’m not actually supposed to be here, I’m… well, I’m time travelling.’

‘I see.’

Sam hoped Teal’c believed her. ‘Yeah and I’d _really_ appreciate it if you didn’t mention meeting me to anyone, because that never happened and, _god,_ Teal’c, I shouldn’t have time travelled at all and I’ve been trying to avoid _anywhere_ where someone might recognise me and it’s really important that I don’t accidentally change something.’

Teal’c’s hand on her arm stopped her. ‘Regardless of your reasons, I am certain they were valid.’

Sam swallowed and dropped her eyes. Was her reason valid? Would Teal’c find her reason valid, when he realised what it was in a few months’ time?

_He’s not worth it_.

‘Did you utilise the Ancient ship?’ Teal’c asked.

‘No.’ Sam shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t use the puddle jumper, actually we’ve dismantled it for study. I used… a different method. Oh, but I did make sure it can’t be used again, so you don’t have to worry about that.’

‘I was not worried, I am sure that, in the future, I am well informed of that fact.’

Sam winced. ‘Uh, no, actually, not really, but I suppose now you… will know.’

Teal’c was watching her curiously now and Sam couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Indeed I will.’

Sam hoped that didn’t screw anything up, but she doubted it; most likely Teal’c would only make the connection long after she’d freed Ba’al. Shifting uncomfortably Sam pointed in a random direction. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. Just, please-‘

‘Do not tell anyone you were here.’ Teal’c inclined his head. ‘I hope all goes well for you.’

Sam stammered out something she hoped was a goodbye and fought to keep herself from breaking into a run as she walked away. She made in back to the cargo ship, let herself in the door and leant hard against the wall.

Teal’c had seen her, Teal’c had spoken to her and if Teal’c hadn’t believed her then she’d just caused irreparable damage to the timeline.

Of course, even if Teal’c _had_ believed her and said nothing, she could still be in trouble. Sam scrubbed a hand over her face and thought it over; _was_ it possible that Teal’c could use the information to stop her from time travelling, thus ending up with two of her in the timeline? Surely not.

_No_ , she told herself, he couldn’t, because he couldn’t know Ba’al had a time machine. He might realise _after_ she’d left the SGC, but by that time it would be too late.

Sam forced herself to take deep breaths. The timeline would be fine, and the SGC wouldn’t be left with the mindboggling mystery of how the hell she’d pulled off Ba’al’s escape. _And_ she’d told Teal’c the time machine had been destroyed, so they wouldn’t spend too long desperately trying to find it after she’d rescued Ba’al. _If_ they believed her, and _if_ she succeeded in rescuing Ba’al.

At least she knew she’d actually succeeded in time travelling, because otherwise… well, she didn’t know what Teal’c’s reaction would have been if the last thing he’d heard of her was her escape through the stargate. And she was glad she hadn't needed to find out.

_______________________

It took another week before Sam was happy with the cargo ship repairs, and she decided to move the ship into orbit.

It was far more private and she would still be able to land and visit the market if she got stir crazy, even if she was mostly avoiding the market. She thought it was as safe as it was going to be; if Teal’c had been going to return with SG-1 then he would have already and Sam hadn’t seen any sign of them.

But. Sam had to repeat what was becoming her mantra; it was still a risk and so she had to be careful. For all she knew, she’d already changed the timeline.

_He’s not worth it_.

Sam shook her head to clear it and stared at the screen in front of her. She had to recreate Ba’al’s virus. Not an easy task on any day and she was working with Goa’uld technology when she would have preferred her own computer. Or any Earth computer, really.

Theoretically, she could go to Earth and _get one_. Except she was _still on Earth_ and so was Ba’al and Sam wasn’t sure she could resist the temptation to simply whisk Ba’al away before he got caught in the first place.

However, that would _change the timeline_ and frankly Sam was sick of worrying about the goddamn _timeline_. Why couldn’t Ba’al have just left the Trust group alone?

She knew the answer to that.

They’d captured him and they’d threatened to kill him, _would_ have killed him if Sam hadn’t been there. She should have known he’d have been looking for anyone who’d escaped the building, although what she could have done about it Sam had no idea.

Even if he had… How long would it have been before _she_ made a mistake? Before the SGC, or the NID, or Homeworld Security stumbled across Ba’al even if neither of them had made a mistake, even if Ba’al had managed _not_ to get bored enough to draw attention to himself?

Not long.

Maybe they should have told Landry themselves and tried to work out a deal.

Or maybe it was pointless thinking about it because (short of _changing the timeline)_ there was nothing she could do about it.

Sam sighed and started on the virus.

Ba’al had better be grateful, otherwise she was going to _kick his ass_.

_______________________

She was in orbit above Earth and Sam sat at the controls looking out over her planet. Months spent fixing the cargo ship and creating a new version of Ba’al’s computer virus and finally she was back. Down there, Ba’al was sitting in a holding cell while her virus spread through the SGC’s computers.

Theoretically, anyway.

Sam entered some more changes to the virus and worried her lip between her teeth.

It wasn’t infecting the right system. Their security around the Asgard beam jamming technology was too good; it simply wasn’t connected to the main systems at all because it didn’t have to be. She’d known that, since she’d helped set it up, but she’d thought (hoped) that there was a minor software connection that would allow the virus to jump.

All of the SGC’s system got connected at some point, accidentally or otherwise. Mostly otherwise, in case that, for any reason, they needed to do a full system shut down.

The jamming technology was an annoying exception and she couldn’t disable it.

If she couldn’t disable the jamming devices then she couldn’t lock on to Ba’al’s locator beacon and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Except to the Tok’ra, which would almost certainly happen in the next few hours.

Sam stared at the computer in front of her. It _had_ to be possible; she couldn’t have gone so far, to have _time travelled,_ only to get beaten by her own security measures. If she didn’t find a way around it, that was _exactly_ what was going to happen.

A heavy weight settled on her shoulders. If it hadn’t been for her, if her team hadn’t felt the need to test her with a za’tarc detector (which she _understood_ but didn’t have to like), then it was _possible_ she and Ba’al would have been able to convince her people that he could be an asset, rather than their enemy.

Of course, the Tok’ra’s desire to get their hands on Ba’al was still completely his fault, what with all the killing and enslaving.

( _He’s not worth it._ )

Regardless, she couldn’t let the Tok’ra have him, she’d made that decision and already gone to pretty extreme lengths to try and achieve it. She had to prevent Ba’al’s transfer, but how?

‘Come on,’ she muttered, remotely going through the SGC’s systems, ‘there has to be _something_.’

Her newest update failed to infect the jamming system and Sam swore.

There was no way around it, she couldn’t beam him out. She couldn’t break in there and get him, partly because she was _still down there_ and would be for another half hour, and partly because a one woman strike force simply couldn’t get in to the SGC, free a high security prisoner and get out again unscathed.

She knew Bill Lee would discover the original virus in no time, although she was sure it would take him a while to shut it down. The second virus, the one she’d spent the last month adapting, was far more subtle and she was still convinced he wouldn’t notice it until she’d used it and that would be great, if she had something to use it _for_.

‘Damn it,’ Sam whispered, running her fingers through her hair.

Was this finally it? The problem that she’d set herself that she just couldn’t solve?

She shook her head and tried to think of another angle to work at it. The jamming field couldn’t be disabled from the virus, it could _only_ be disabled from within the SGC with two command codes. She might managed to get around needing two codes, but she would still need to break into the SGC to do it.

The only possible way she could get in to the SGC and achieve that was beaming in, and if she could beam in then she wouldn’t _need_ to beam in.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Ba’al would be taken to the Tok’ra within the day, she was certain of it, and… Sam froze, blinking down at the computer screen. Ba’al was going to be moved.

She scrambled to make new changes to the virus. She didn’t need to shut down the jamming code; Ba’al was going to be moved well out of its range. To the Tok’ra.

‘Okay,’ Sam muttered. ‘I can do this.’

The virus could be used to divert the wormhole, because trying to beam him up from the Tok’ra homeworld was just too risky. Of course, she’d need an uninhabited planet that her ship could reach within a few hours, assuming she could make the changes and still have enough time to meet him there.

Time. After everything she was still short of time.

______________________

It took her long enough to make the necessary corrections and uploaded them to the system that by Sam’s count she would have just left the SGC for Ba’al’s time machine. And she had no idea what time they were going to move Ba’al to the Tok’ra, or if they’d question him about her disappearance.

Probably. He wouldn’t say anything useful and Sam hoped that would give her enough time to reach the planet she’d chosen.

If it didn’t then they’d just turn around and drag Ba’al back through the stargate to the Tok’ra, assuming a simple mistake had been made. Ideally, Sam would have prevented that from happening by choosing a planet without a DHD, but she didn’t want to strand anyone.

There was also the slim possibility that something would go wrong with the virus and the wormhole wouldn’t divert.

If she arrived at the planet and Ba’al never walked through the stargate Sam would never know what had gone wrong. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

She had no-one to double check her calculations, no safety net and, again, no _time_. Sam spared one more glance at her home planet and then engaged the hyperdrive.

She spent the journey monitoring the engines, which really didn’t need monitoring. Still, the alternative was letting her thoughts wander and thinking about _what ifs_ and risks and changing the timeline, because she _still_ wouldn’t know if she’d preserved the timeline until Ba’al was safe aboard her ship.

Holy Hannah Sam wanted to see him again. Safe.

She dropped out of hyperspace and established a stable orbit.

Sam started pacing up and down, watching the screen for any signs of activity on the planet. She’d have to move fast, and be prepared in case she beamed anyone else up with Ba’al. She had a zat for that little problem, one that she’d had with her ever since escaping from the SGC.

Hopefully if she did beam up someone with Ba’al, she’d be able to zat them before Ba’al made any moves of his own.

An hour passed and Sam had to fight the urge to start biting her nails.

How long should she wait? What if it was days before they transferred Ba’al? Should she go to the Tok’ra homeworld? Was there any point going to the Tok’ra homeworld, when the chance of getting him away from there was close to zero?

Sam forced herself to sit down. A week, she could give him a full week before she started wondering what to do next.

It was exactly three hours and 34 seconds later when the gate activated.

Sam sat up, hovering her hand over the Asgard beam controls and watching the screen intently for Ba’al’s locator beacon. It had to be them. Who else would be dialling in to the barren planet she’d chosen?

She held her breath and started slowly counted in her head.

One… Two… three… four...

The signal lit up on the screen in front of her.

Leaping up from the chair, Sam activated the beaming technology, swinging around with the zat primed.

Ba’al appeared in the centre of the room in a flash of white light, wearing the prison uniform she’d last seen him in and with chains around both wrists and ankles. He blinked, looked around the ship, and then a wide smile spread across his face and he stood, looking down at the planet through the viewscreen as the room echoed with his rich, symbiote flanged laugh.

A little weight lifted off Sam’s chest at the sight of him.

‘Surprised?’ she asked.

‘Pleasantly.’ Ba’al turned to face her, looking extremely pleased with himself. ‘It wasn’t _precisely_ what I had in mind, but it was hardly the worst of your options.’

By which, Sam realised, he meant he’d actually thought the wormhole would take him to the Tok’ra homeworld, that she’d blown the time machine and ditched him. She’d feel angry about it, if she hadn’t considered doing exactly that.

‘Your virus couldn’t be adapted to take down the Asgard beam jammer, so I had to improvise.’

‘As you say.’ He shrugged, as if he thought he could have done it. Arrogant bastard. ‘I half expected you to alter the entire timeline, after all, your SGC made enough mistakes that you must have been tempted to fix.’

His words reignited an anger that had been burning for a very long time and Sam stepped forward and slapped him.

Ba’al took a step back, hampered by the chains, and stared at her. ‘What?’

‘You built a _time machine,’_ she snapped.

Understanding dawned and Ba’al stroked his beard. ‘Well that depends on your definition of _me_ , I suppose.’

Sam scowled. ‘Don’t give me that crap. You knew it was there; you must have at least worked on it.’

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then Ba’al nodded. ‘I built a time machine,’ he agreed and the grin reappeared. ‘Is it not a brilliant mix of common knowledge and utter genius?’

‘It’s in pieces,’ Sam said flatly.

‘Yes.’ Ba’al sighed. ‘I thought it might be.’

‘And now we’re going to go and destroy the satellites you placed around all those stars.’ Sam injected as much authority in her voice as she could. This was where things could go very badly; she’d just removed herself from a position of power, put him in a position where he could go right back to scheming to take over the galaxy. Or altering the timeline.

‘Oh are we?’ Ba’al asked, one eyebrow quirking.

‘Yes,’ Sam stepped forward, purposely placing her foot between his and on the chain that bound his ankles, ‘we are.’

Ba’al’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he lifted his hands over her head and encircled her with his arms in a clink of chains. ‘But we could have such _fun_ with a time machine, my dear.’

Sam liked to think she knew him well enough to be certain that was an agreement; no time travelling.

‘I like _this_ timeline,’ Sam told him, resting her head on his chest.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head, but simply asked; ‘Do you?’

Sam’s head jerked up to look at him and she followed his gaze out the viewscreen to the planet, and she wondered if her team was still down there. She wondered what they’d do if she beamed herself down, if she tried to go back to Earth with them. Would they let her come and be arrested? Would they arrest her themselves?

She couldn’t find out. She’d conspired with an enemy, helped him escape and had been proven not to be under mind control.

If she went back to Earth, she’d be locked up for a very long time. No trial, no appeal.

She didn’t answer Ba’al, because there wasn’t a clear answer. Had she really given up her team, her _family_ for him? She hadn’t meant to.

_He’s not worth it_.

And on that note…

‘I should have seen it,’ Sam said, studying his face.

Ba’al arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Seen what, my sweet?’

‘You set up a failsafe, you do it all the time, I guessed that you’d have one in place and I _still_ didn’t notice; not until I’d had three weeks on my own to think about it.’

His hands tightened on the small of her back, his expression uncharacteristically wary. ‘If it makes you feel better, it _was_ personal.’

Sam snorted and placed her hands on his shoulders. ‘It _better_ have been personal, Ba’al. You used me.’

‘You seem remarkably unperturbed.’ Ba’al tilted his head to one side. ‘I suppose I _did_ warn you.’

‘You did.’ Sam nodded. ‘ _And_ I already knew you were an asshole.’

Ba’al chuckled and Sam felt him relax again. ‘Indeed you did. I suppose I must thank you for continuing on with the plan regardless.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Sam said, accepting that was the closest Ba’al was ever going to get to saying sorry. It was closer than she’d expected. ‘Although I’d like to hear you say that the original plan didn’t include forcing me away from the SGC.’

‘And that is the case. It would have been far easier if no one suspected your part.’ Ba’al smirked, pulling her closer so that they were pressed up against each other. ‘That said; I much prefer the way things have worked out.’

‘You would have just left me?’ Sam asked, because, yes, that did sting.

‘Of course not. I would have made you choose between me and your people and we both know which is superior.’ Ba’al’s eyes were twinkling as he looked at her.

‘I still could beam you back down there,’ Sam threatened.

Ba’al shook his head. ‘No you couldn’t.’

‘You’re still chained up,’ Sam pointed out. ‘You couldn’t do anything about it.’

‘Oh but I appear to have captured _you_.’ Ba’al replied, increasing the pressure on her back to make his point.

Sam smiled at him, and conceded the point. ‘Yes, you have.’

‘Exactly the way I like it,’ Ba’al told her, the satisfied look returning in full force. ‘And it truly is better that the decision was made for you. You should have seen the surprise on their faces as we stepped on to the planet. Such lovely confusion.’

Sam couldn’t help it, she flinched and her eyes focused through the viewscreen over his shoulder. They would have left my now, of course, run back to Earth to try and scramble some kind of search party. Were they also searching for her? Her team had let her go, but they couldn’t control all the decisions, not when she knew she’d been labelled a traitor.

‘They will take you back eventually,’ Ba’al said, his voice mercifully free of his usual mocking tone.

Sam looked into his eyes. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘You are too important to them.’ Ba’al shrugged. ‘So they will… Eventually.’

Sam averted her gaze and took out a piece of wire, ducking out of his arms to pick the lock and take the chains off his wrists. He might have a point.

After all, she’d enlisted Ba’al’s help with their research because they were so swamped with work that was beyond their understanding. And her own work… well. Sam knew the department needed her, so maybe, just _maybe_ , there would come a time where she could contact the SGC and they’d let her back. She liked to think her team would make that possible.

Whether they’d _ever_ accept Ba’al… but maybe she could suggest she _and_ Ba’al worked with the SGC, not for, but with. Maybe that would work, someday.

‘Yeah,’ Sam said, letting the chains fall to the floor as she leant back against him. ‘Eventually.’

________________________


End file.
